


Oliver Queen is Dead- grieving Felicity.

by itslulim



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:31:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslulim/pseuds/itslulim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic depicts Felicity’s grieve once the Team finds out Oliver is dead. Of course it’s speculative telling of her grief because I am sadistic and I can’t wait till January 21.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oliver Queen is Dead- grieving Felicity.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever so I definitely appreciate all the feedback I can get. I hope you enjoy it.

 

As Malcolm Meryln walks away after uttering the unthinkable Felicity remains focused on his disappearing silhouette unwilling to turn around and face the truth. The truth represented by the sword he placed with careless ease on the table as he uttered the words _“Oliver Queen is dead.”_ In a moment of weakness her curious sense of self gets the best of her and she glances at it on her peripheral and it reaffirms the truth that has been ringing in her ears. The blood soaked sword on the table is real and hasn't followed Malcolm out of the foundry nor has it disappeared as part of a magician trick unveiling a sick twisted joke. Rather, it is now a reality she must face but _when?_ _When should she turn around? When is the appropriate time to face reality? How long does it take to process four words?_

Felicity realized she is unable to move her feet as they are frozen to the ground to aid her unwillingness to accept reality, yet shaking at the same time. Her fingers felt limp, chest tightened closing her airway obstructing her breathing, heart pounding hard like drum trying to wake her up from what she clearly perceived to be a nightmare. She wants to tell herself, _wake up Felicity_ , but she is brought to reality by the warm tears forming tracks down her face as they drip down on her collarbone.

_Reality is always so cruel and sudden_. She thought when she felt a hand on her shoulder, a familiar touch, a touch of a man she considered a friend and sometimes a big brother. The frailty in his touch affirmed the unbearable nightmare that was haunting her.

“Felici-t _y_ ” John cried her name. Trying to put his shock, disbelief and overwhelming grief that took over him aside. He has always looked out for Oliver and Felicity. They both have been through unimaginable amount of pain and each have long-suffered their respective crucibles but they were still infants in terms of navigating all their emotions. He took one more step towards her contemplating how long before he calls out her name again.

As reality starts closing in on Felicity she decided it was time to face it. It was time to accept that she is not having a nightmare. May be Malcolm Merlyn was never really there or may be just maybe she misheard what he said, but deep down she knew she didn't. The words started ringing in her ears like church bells. “ _Oliver Queen is dead_.” She felt her shoulder jerk in denial away from the comforting touch of Diggle as her mind starts to answer the next question, _When should she turn around?_

In an effort to muster the strength to turn around and face the truth, she briefly closed her eyes that were filled with tears. But when she did she was greeted by Oliver’s hopeful face the day he went to fight Ra’s Al Ghul. The reassuring grin he knew probably did little to pacify her worry but he tried anyway. The kiss on her forehead… _oh may be that was too much_ , too much to bear for her right now, a memory too hard to reconcile with reality. _So I guess it is time to turn around_ , she thought to herself. Take the first step.

She slowly started to turn towards the sword Malcolm Merlyn left behind. The last witness to Oliver Queen’s dying breath, to her Oliver’s dying breath. It didn't take long for her to glance at the sword and notice the blood stain covering it from point to shoulder. In a true Felicity form her imaginative mind quickly brought to life the realization that the sword must have went through Oliver. In one full turn she was face to face with reality, she was starting at the last moments of Oliver’s life. She stared at it from a far as if she can defeat reality or dismiss what it represented. She felt as a wave of denial starts to wash over her. _How can she be sure? Why should they believe Malcolm? The only honest thing about Malcolm was his dishonesty? So, in a way this sword means nothing. Nothing at all!_ She thought.

The doubt she placed in the truthfulness of the information communicated by Malcolm galvanized her and spurs a little life back in her. She turned towards John.

“John, how can we…” she didn't even finish her question when she realized John was holding an envelope in his hand and knew exactly what she was going to ask. Unlike her there was no doubt in John’s face, _Oliver was gone._

John shook his head to let Felicity know that her doubt was nothing but hope. Hope to believe Oliver was still alive. He unfortunately couldn't hope with her as he has seen the contents of the envelop Malcolm left for them along with the blood stained sword. He knew Felicity can’t handle what was inside. He hoped she will look at him and know there was a more concrete confirmation in the palm of his hands.

Felicity immediately knew whatever he was holding was worst. Because she knew it is not be beneath Malcolm to leave them with a picture of Oliver’s body and something else more vicious. She clinched her lips to suffocate the scream that was trying to burst out of her but her trembling lips couldn't gather the strength. Her index finger was shaking as it fidgets round and round her thumb. _Should she ask to see what’s in the envelope? Can she bear anything more?_ At this point there was a very fine line between sane devastation and collapsing to a dark hole of insanity and dissociation with reality. She knew that question will most likely determine which becomes of her next. The look on Diggle’s face warned her to choose wisely. Felicity decided to trust John, if he wants her to retreat that’s what she will do.

Instead she closed her eyes for a second a let out a small cry. She took couple of steps towards Diggle and Roy while tears run down her face. She didn’t know how to answer the last question. _How long does it take to process four words?_ But she doesn’t want to know right now. Right now she wants to channel Oliver for a little bit longer. She wants think of everyone but herself. She took few quick steps towards them and gave each man an embrace to affirm their solidarity in their grief. She let go without allowing herself to feel comforted by their embrace.

“John, what are going to do?” she felt lost on how to proceed. “Does Thea know?” Her eyes wondered toward Roy’s direction. “Or Laurel?” she looked back at John.

John wanted to indulge Felicity. He knew she was trying to stay strong and also find a way to properly grief without worrying them. He realized they need to give her a moment. Felicity has shared Oliver with the world when he was alive. Oliver and Felicity never asked for a moment alone because all their moments were sacrificed for the bigger cause. John actively made sure they had privacy when Oliver was alive. He wanted to steal moments from the crusade for them. And he knew he needs to steal another moment for her.

“I will check on Laurel and Roy can check on Thea later once…” he knew she will stop him and urge them to do it now.

“No, do it now.” Felicity protested. “We need to tell Laurel before Malcolm does and Thea…” She knew when it comes to Thea, they need to handle things the way Oliver would whether they agree with him or not.

“Let’s first find out if Malcolm has told her or not.” John interjected. “Then we’ll discuss. Roy, why don’t you go and find out if Thea knows anything?”

“Of course” Roy agreed remembering the promise he gave his mentor. But before he left, he glanced at the sword on the table one more time and glanced back at Felicity. He wasn’t sure if they should leave her alone with it. But he decided to follow Diggle’s lead.

“Are you going to be okay alone? May be you should come with me Felicity?” He asked knowing the answer full well.

“I don’t think I can be the bearer of this news.” Felicity can’t leave Oliver’s side. She wanted to be alone with him. She wanted to comfort him.

John turned towards Roy and gestured for them to leave. They both have a heavy undertaking ahead of them.  _How does he tell Laurel? How much information does he tell her?_ For now the magnitude of Oliver’s death will erase all other questions that will follow and buy him time to think of an explanation for why.

Both men rubbed her shoulder as they walk passed her. Diggle took the envelope with him. He knew Felicity well enough that he didn’t want to tempt her. He knew she is in a maze with every path leading to a downward spiral of emotion. He wanted to ease the fall that awaits her the minute they leave her alone.

The fading footsteps of the two men turned to a muffled indistinguishable sound. She knew she was finally alone with Oliver. She also knew she will have to find the courage to turn towards the sword one more time. But as the numbness started to wear off she felt disoriented like the ground was moving beneath her feet. She pressed her hand on her chest and she tried to gather her emotions but to no avail. She was out of options. She couldn't change the truth but she was also failing to command herself to face it.  She started to slowly walk towards the table. Every step brought her closer to him but took her further and further from her consciousness.  Felicity can feel the emptiness in the room. Her chest was weighing her down like an anchor trying to sink her in the bottom of an ocean filled with memories of Oliver. She started breathing heavily trying to take in as much oxygen as she can.

When she reached the edge of the table she placed one hand on the table to keep her balance and one hand on her chest to support her beating heart. Through her tear filled eyes and disoriented blurry vision the sword she was starting at turned into multiple swords. The delusion and the fluid in her eyes created an illusion of a blood flowing from one sword to another. She decided to get a grip on reality and moved her hands supporting her chest toward the hilt to stop the vision. But the coldness of the metal brought a different horror of its own as Felicity realized the grip she has was the same grip Ra’s Al had before striking him with the sword through and through.

Felicity reached her breaking point, finally. She could not withstand anything beyond the illusion of Oliver’s blood through her tears and also having anything in common with his killer. In her desperation to collect her thought she gripped the hilt a little tighter but it did nothing but intensified her pain. The floor started shifting beneath her, oxygen became scarce and even the ceiling lost it shapes as it abandons her sense of depth perception. Felicity couldn't handle reality anymore, she knew she was defeated. She went to her default safe place and called out Oliver. But this time Oliver did not come around the corner and ask _“Felicity, are you okay?”_  Felicity looked up the ceiling that was spinning as her eyes slowly closed and her breathing seemed distant. She lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground. While she lost control of all her body, her grip on the sword never loosened as it fell right on her when she hit the ground.

“Felicity Smoak” Felicity turned around to see a familiar face standing in front of her. “Hi, I am Oliver Queen” as familiar as a billionaire from the tabloids who also happens to be your boss can be.

A reel of memories started playing the mind of the unconscious Felicity. From the day she decided to place her trust in him and approach him about the note book from Walter to the day he reciprocated by waiting for her half dead and bleeding inside her car. The first time her told her “ _we will try it your way_ ” in the dodger case. They tried it her way a lot since then. If she had something to say Oliver was the first willing to listen to it. His sins he laid bare in front of her because he knew she accepted him even though he didn't escape her judgment.  His apologies that was scarce for everyone but flow like the Nile her way. The never ending smiles he used to express his pleasure, amusement, pride, empathy and hope. The sacrifice he made when he killed count Vertigo and how he belittled his scarifies to alleviate her guilt. The way he trusted her, accepted her, valued her and most of all cared for her reeled in host of memories that wheeled in her unconscious mind.  

“And the second thing?” Felicity asked as Oliver was walking away. She was unsure of what it was but she hopped it would be something that will let her know that he will kill Ra’s Al because it was her one and only request.

“I love you” Oliver uttered those three words with more conviction that anything else she has heard him say.

Felicity was shocked as she stood frozen.

“I love you” he said to Felicity again as he walked a little closer to her. He smiled and extended his hand as if he wants to ask her for a dance. “I love…” before he can finish his declaration for her she felt a cold sensation on her hands and ringing on her ears. Her eyes that were sealed shut by the dried tears cracked open a little as she starts to tear up again. When she opened her eyes Oliver’s blood was the first image to capture her eyes. The only image she needed to put everything in perspective. Her memories no matter how painful brought to life the one thing they had taken for granted to light. In their struggles to be together in a defined relationship it never occurred to them they were already in one. All the time they spent together, all their decision made with the other in mind, only if they could just let go of their fears a little. As the many loving facial expressions and gestures of Oliver flashed through her eyes Felicity relived his love declaration. But instead of relief her pain escalated when she realized that Oliver died not knowing how she felt about him. In her shock their last day or pride all the days before that she hasn't told Oliver how she felt.

Felicity strengthened her grip on the hilt of the sword and held it tight to her chest. The shock and disbelief that were disorienting her were slowly replaced by sadness and guilt.  She started to quietly sob as a hot trail of tears run down her face. She felt like her trembling gut was trying to break her frozen heart into pieces. While her tears burnt every part of her flesh they came in contact with Felicity wondered _if this is what hell felt like_. But she doesn't know. As a Jew, there is little if any contemplation of after life. Just like she doesn't know if is she is in hell, she can’t hope may be Oliver is in Haven and may be one day she will tell him she loves him. The religious teaching she treasured so much taught her life is precious. We only have the here and now emphasized the enormity of the end. In a mixture of silent screams and sobs Felicity pressed the sword a little bit further down on her chest. There was no do over for her. There isn't a future beyond the gates of Haven. Oliver was gone, her Oliver was gone.

 

\--  ---

 

Thank you.


End file.
